of the windows of the old hostelry,
he planned his future hiding.

Neither the dangerous dupe at his side nor his hoodwinked associates
of the International Smuggling Association knew of the vast fortune
which Braun had artfully hidden upon his arrival.

Well he knew that his life would pay the penalty in a moment if
the blood-stained treasure were suspected to be in his hands.

And so, with careful craft, he labored to throw off all his
dangerous associates and quietly disappear to a retreat, already
decided upon, in the sleepy environs of Breslau.

"First, to watch my lady!" he decided, for he was not deceived by
Irma Gluyas' apparent quiet. His first care had been to obtain the
New York journals' regularly arriving. "If there is any hubbub over
there, I will be on guard, before they can reach me," he mused, as
he glowered over his wine at the woman who now panted for liberty.

Two weeks after his arrival passed with no detection of the murder.

"Safe, safe!" he laughed. "The trunk is now buried a hundred feet
deep in the ooze of the East River."

And he smiled in triumph at the precaution which had led to Leah
Einstein's hegira to her respectable First Avenue tenement, under
the decent alias of Mrs. Rachel Meyer.

He brooded, day by day, over the skill with which he had arranged
for cablegrams to a safe address. The innocent cipher arranged for
would warn him of all possible happenings.

And yet, at ease in his trust in the dumb fidelity of the distant
woman still his slave, he waited hungrily for the Magyar beauty to
trap herself. He was a man of infinite patience. Indulging every
seeming whim of his companion, he had never lost her from his sight
a moment since their arrival.

It was on the fourth day after their refuge in Stettin, when Fritz
Braun stole out of his rooms at a secret signal from Lena, the
"stube-madchen," whose frank face had won upon the secretly imprisoned
Irma.

"She gave me one of her diamond rings to pawn. I was to post this
letter and to send this telegraph dispatch to America," whispered
the girl. Fritz Braun smiled as he received the proofs of the
Hungarian's treachery.

And then, Lena sang over her drudgery for the next week, for the
grateful Braun had filled her hand with gold.

There was a strange gleam of contentment in Irma Gluyas' eyes
when she followed Fritz Braun, two weeks later, into the train for
Breslau. Her secret master had redoubled every tender car